Losing Her
by farewellblindgirl
Summary: "I'm getting married," she said.  And in that moment, Seeley Booth knew he'd lost her...


Disclaimer: Normal blah blah blah stuff. No legal claim on Bones, the letter Q, or anything else.

Author's Note: Thank you, everyone, for the warm welcome to this site. It's been a definite encouragement for me to finish off my backlog of stories and get them in the hands of all of you. Enjoy...

Losing Her

Seeley Booth watches her from across the table as she steals one of his fries. He wonders, not for the first time, what was the last order of fries of his that he actually got to eat, but then realizes, not for the first time, that he doesn't really care. He doesn't mind losing a few fries if it means gaining time with her.

The woman sitting across from him is the most perfect thing he's ever known. He will always remember the first moment he laid eyes on her - how one look changed his world, changed his priorities, changed him. She's beautiful and funny and intelligent and he can tell by the fog in her blue eyes that she's here to give him bad news.

"Okay," he says, "out with it."

"Out with what?"

"Out with whatever you asked me to lunch to tell me."

"I can't just want to have lunch with you?" she asks as she steals yet another fry.

"No, you can't. Normally I have to go and sit on your office couch and hound you for an hour, otherwise you'll just grab something quick, if it all... so … out with it."

She sits for a moment, staring just past him. He can almost see the gears turning in her head.

"I've been," she starts,"...I am seeing someone."

Maybe I shouldn't have asked, he thinks Of course, she's dated before, but luckily not often, because every time she does, it kills him. He feels a tightness in his chest, even now, thinking of some of her long gone boyfriends and random dates.

"So who is he?" he asks, trying to sound casual and hoping against hope that she doesn't hear the breaking in his voice.

"His name is Mark. He's a neurologist."

"And does this Mark have a last name?"

"I really don't want you running a background check on my boyfriend," she says, and his heart skips about a dozen beats on the word. "My taste in men is not nearly as bad as you make it out to be."

"I wouldn't …" he starts, but she gives him a look and he stops, because they both know that he would. He has in the past. He knows he's supposed to feel guilty about that, but doesn't. Anything to protect her and all that.

"You'll like him. He's an ex-Ranger. He's Catholic. He's a good and decent and intelligent man, and he loves me."

"I'm happy for you," he chokes out. "It's just, you know, I try to look out for you."

"We're getting married," she says quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. He looks at her, stunned, and she responds with a defiant jut of her chin, and he knows then that he's lost her. He knew it would happen eventually. He just wanted more time.

"You can't get married. You're way too young," she says. Even he can hear the slight hysterics in his voice.

"The average age of marriage in this country is twenty-eight for women," she says with a tone of voice that means she's already done all of her analysis and drawn her conclusions, "I am in my thirties. I am, if anything, behind the curve."

"And we can't have that, can we?"

She picks up the sarcasm, but turns it into a tease. "No," she says, "we can't have that."

When she smiles at him, he knows he's going to lose. He has never been able to deny her what she wants when she smiles like that. Always the gambler, he has only one card left to play.  
>"And what does your mom think of all this?"<p>

She falters. "Um, I haven't told her yet. I mean, she knows about Mark, but … well you know Mom's feelings about marriage - ' it's just an antiquated ritual that, even if it may have had legal significance at one time, is completely obsolete in light of the recent advances in civil union legislation.'" She does a fair mimic of her mother's voice. "And yeah, I suppose she's right, but... I want the whole deal."

He laughs. "So this is a recruiting visit? You thought I would be the easier one to convince?"

She's sheepish now, "Sorta."

"And you thought I'd be on your side, why?"

"Come on, Dad. I know you can't pass up the opportunity to dance with your daughter at her wedding. We were planning on having it in a church and everything."

He leans back in his chair. He's torn between his own feelings and his desire to make sure his daughter never wants for anything. The latter wins.

"I think you are overthinking things, honey. She can't be too anti-marriage. She's been married to me for thirty-one years after all."

"Well, actually, I was wondering how you convinced her. I figured, maybe the same logic might work twice?"

Booth takes a fry, enjoying the secret he's about to reveal, "Can't help you there. She convinced me."

"You're joking."

"Nope. I'll tell you that one sometime, but later. Look, Mom gets back into town from her conferencey-thingy in a few hours. Come over for dinner. We can both talk to her."

She does a little wiggle in her seat, a sort of victory dance. It's the only thing she does that reminds him more of himself than his wife. "Thanks, Dad."

Their conversation turns to simpler things as she eats a few more fries. He half-listens, mostly wondering how he'll help convince Bones tonight, but also wondering how he'll come to terms with it all himself. And then, before long, the fries are gone and it's time for her to go.

"Wait," he says as she gets up from the table, "Back there, did you 'handle' me?"

"Now, Dad. I would never do that," she says, getting up from the table. As she goes to leave, she kisses him goodbye, "I'll see you tonight." As she walks out he chuckles to himself. Maybe there are things she learned from him after all.


End file.
